I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul
by ktcantwrite
Summary: Blaine feels insecure after he notices the differences in his body since he moved to NYC. Spoilers for season 5. Trigger Warning: mentions of depression, self-harm & self-hate. Read at your own risk. (Title from 'Creep' by Radiohead)
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Glee or any of the characters.

**TRIGGER WARNING:** Mention of depression, description of self-harm. Read at your own risk.

* * *

Blaine's standing next to the microwave heating up left over spaghetti watching it spin around and around when it hits him. The wave of anxiety and overwhelming self hatred. Blaine keeps replaying their conversations in his head. He thinks about how Kurt's been kind of off lately, and how he mentioned Blaine's eating habits. He even mentioned Eli when they were out with Sam and Artie.

_He only does that when he's really upset with me_…

Blaine stops the microwave and puts the spaghetti back in the fridge. He doesn't know why this is happening _right now_, but he can't keep it inside forever.

He goes into the bathroom and takes off his shirt. He looks in the mirror with disappointment.

_Look at you, Blaine. A year ago you were in such great shape, better than Kurt. You boxed, you were in Dalton's fight club, you were one of the _best_ dancers in glee club. Now... you're just a mess. _

Blaine turns on the shower and waits for it to warm up. He takes off the rest of his clothes and gets in.

His breaths feel heavy as the water hits his face and chest. Blaine lets the warmth spread over his body, feeling a little less numb. He shampoos his hair and then conditions. He washes his body and face, scrubbing maybe a little too hard some places. He rubs his eyes and lets the hot water sting his face. A sob escapes, and another. He just can't hold it in. He sits down, feeling helpless and small. He cries for a while, his head resting on his knees. He looks at the drain, watching the water make it's way down. Eventually the water starts to feel cooler so he stands up, and gets his shaving gel and squeezes some into his hand and rubs it on his face. He sets it down and grabs his razor. He starts shaving and after a few strokes accidentally cuts his neck. He inhales at the pain, touching his neck and seeing the blood on his finger. Seeing the sight reminds him of his days before Dalton. And after Kurt went back to McKinley. And Chandler. Eli….

He lets the blood wash off of his fingers and quickly finishes shaving the rest of his face before he shuts off the water. He gets out and wraps a towel around his waist and dries off his hair with another. He steps back in the shower and grabs his razor. He knows he shouldn't do this, but it's been so long. _I deserve it. _he thinks as he looks at the shiny metal.

He sits down on the toilet and looks at his arms; you wouldn't be able to notice his scars unless you were really looking for them. He'd done a good job with his scar cream and cocoa butter treatments back in his darker days. He easily takes apart this razor- he's been needing a new one anyway- and looks at the 5 small blades. He picks one up and looks at it. _As long as Kurt doesn't see, I'm fine._ He puts the tip to his forearm and lightly drags it across. He could feel the small burn on his skin, but no blood came. He didn't want to cut too deep, but he needed a release.

He tries again, this time with more pressure. He drags the blade horizontally across his forearm and a few beads of blood surface. He lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding in. He hadn't cut since…maybe before he and Kurt got back together? It had been and on and off sort of thing for about 3 years now.

The worst he ever cut was when he first started Dalton and didn't have a lot of friends. He was really sad and alone, and he felt ashamed after Sadie Hawkin's. Once he met Kurt he stopped for a while. Whenever he and Kurt got in a fight or something bad happened it'd flare up again. He had bad scars for almost a year, not a lot of people knew though because of the uniform at Dalton. By the time he started McKinley they faded enough for him to feel comfortable wearing short sleeves. He'd always been kind of insecure about his, well, everything, because he always had competition. There was Cooper, then the guys of glee club, and all the hot, talented gay guys in New York Kurt could see whenever he wanted.

Blaine was still looking at the one cut. Would he be wearing short sleeves soon? He could pass with long sleeves in class…he'd just be on the shirts team during his combat class with Kurt. Since he and Kurt don't live together, he could get away with not taking his shirt off for Kurt. He could just stick with a blowjob or something.

Blaine put the razor to his skin again, swiftly running it across his arm. Blood beaded to the surface. He did this again, and again, and again. There were now about 10 cuts on his right forearm. He leaned back against the toilet and sighed. He knows he shouldn't have done this, but he feels better now.

He rummages through the cabinets and finds some neosporin and a box of bandages. He treats his cuts and gets into his pajamas.

He falls asleep before he thought to text Kurt goodnight.

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**Author's Note:** Thank you for reading! comment or message me if you liked it! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry this has taken so long, got distracted by things and stuff. Wrote a fix about that if you want to hear my friend troubles turned into Klaine troubles. Anyway, here we go.

TW SELF HARM. Please read at your own risk.

The bell rings and Blaine closes his Geometry book and get up from his desk. He briskly walks back to his dorm, he doesn't have any friends to talk to anyway.

He keeps his head down and turns his key over and over in his right hand, book in his left.

He enters the dorm building and climbs two flights of stairs and reaches his room, 204. He puts the key in the door and unlocks the door to his single dorm room.

The room is bland, off-white walls and one bed shoved in the corner closest to the window. He has a dark wood wardrobe against one wall and a desk on the opposite wall. He takes off his blazer and tosses it onto his bed, tie following soon after. He unbuttons his shirt and tosses it on the pile of crumpled slacks and dress shirts, mentally reminding himself to do laundry this weekend.

He heads for his private bathroom and even though he lives alone, he locks the door out of habit.

He turns and looks at his reflection, small and pale. He has big hazel eyes and a messy flop of curly hair. He takes off his clothes to get in the shower, turning the water on hot.

He grabs his soap from the counter and the razor next to it.

He stands under the hot spray for a few minutes, just letting himself relax. He washes his hair and once he's done he picks up the soap and lathers up his face to shave. He gets some soap in his eye so he blindly grabs for his razor until he picks it up. The soap is burning his eye so he shaves quickly, accidentally cutting his neck.

He stops and remembers the documentary he watched last year in freshman health about people with eating disorders and depression and also people who cut themselves.

He'd never imagined wanting to do that to himself.

He'd also never imagined he'd be beat up by some assholes and put into a coma for 2 months either. Things change.

Blaine looks at the razor and looks down at his pale arms.

He takes apart the razor and holds one blade in his left hand. He presses it to the skin of his forearm, barely any pressure, and drags it across in a short stroke. He looks at his arm, heart pounding in his ears, and one small drop of blood appears.

_That didn't even hurt_ he thinks, and he does it again. And again. And again.

There's a series of small lines all over his wrist and forearm now, not too much blood on any of them. He sighs, gets out of the shower &amp; dries off. He leaves the blades in the shower and throws the disposable body away.

* * *

Blaine is sitting with Kurt on their couch, watching something about kids in a mental ward, and there was a segment on cutting. Blaine's eye had glazed over, and he wasn't really listening until-

"Isn't that crazy? I can't believe anyone would actually want to do that."

"What? Oh, yeah. That's just. Yeah." Blaine says, realizing what Kurt's talking about. He tugs at the sleeves of his sweater.

Blaine has his knees up to his chest and Kurt's on his right, leaning on him.

Blaine feels embarrassed that Kurt's touching him right now.

_Why is he even trying, I know he hates my body just as much as I do. I wish he would stop with the facade and just leave me already. _

Blaine shifts, angling his knees away from Kurt, but Kurt doesn't get off Blaine.

They switch channels at a commercial break and Kurt forgets all about the mental ward show and laughs at the newest Next Great Baker contest. Cannoli tower, really? Who would ever want that many cannolis?

* * *

thank you to everyone reading.


	3. Chapter 3

They're laying on their stomachs on Blaine's bed with textbooks sprawled out amongst them, finals week is a bitch this year. Blaine's studying for his algebra 2 final and Kurt's studying for his us history final. Blaine has a sweater on even though it's a little warm to be wearing that. Kurt, however, doesn't seem to notice.

"Blaine do you know what the treaty of Versailles was? I can't remember and I forgot which chapter it was in."

"Uh. Was it something about World War 1?" Blaine says, not looking up from the trig problem he's working on.

"Oh yeah duh, you're so smart." Kurt says and scribbles something down.

Blaine closes his eyes. _No I'm really not. I know I'm gonna fail this test cause I'm a fucking idiot. _

"Hey, you wanna take a break?" Kurt says and puts some papers in his book and closes it.

"What kind of break?" Blaine asks with a smile, turning his head to look at Kurt.

"Do you even have to ask?" Kurt says and Blaine rolls over onto his back smiling as Kurt kisses him. Kurt straddles Blaine and runs his hands up Blaine's torso and runs his fingers through Blaine's hair.

"I think you're wearing too many layers, and that's coming from me." Kurt says as he starts to pull at the bottom of Blaine's sweater. Blaine forgets the cuts on his arms and willingly lifts his arms up for Kurt to take the sweater off and discard it on the floor. They keep kissing and Kurt doesn't notice the cuts.

* * *

Later they're back to their books and it isn't until Kurt reaches to get a highlighter from Blaine he notices a cut on his boyfriend's arm.

"How'd you get that cut, honey?" Kurt says and reaches for Blaine's arm but he tugs it away.

"Oh it was nothing, just uh," Blaine stammers, _shit shit what do I say_, "Uh I don't remember I think I got it in PE. We're playing tennis so it was probably just a racket or something." _Real fucking smooth, Blaine._

"Oh. Okay. Be careful, okay?"

"I'm fine Kurt, it was an accident." Blaine says, a little annoyed now that they haven't changed the subject.

"Okay, Blaine, don't need to get snippy." Kurt says and turns back to his book, flipping the page.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, and then Blaine gets up and says, "I'm gonna go get a glass of water, do you want anything?"

"Water would be good, thanks." Kurt replies, meeting Blaine's eyes and smiling.

"Okay, be back in a few." Blaine turns and heads down the hall and down the stairs to the kitchen.

He braces his arms on the sink and then turns them so he can see the underside. There's lots of faint scars, and a few fresh cuts on the lower part of his forearm. _I could've told Kurt. I could've told him and he'd know and help me. _Blaine turns his arms over and sighs. _Maybe another day_. He grabs two glasses and fills them with water before heading back upstairs.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry for the delay, I'm in college now and I've been busy with class and stuff. And I honestly haven't had much inspiration to finish this fic. I'm gonna do my best though, it might take a while but I'll finish eventually!


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